Ginny Weasley and the Heir of Slytherin

The Enemy Within

That night Ginny found it really, really hard to resist writing to Tom Riddle. Every night she wrote to Tom, telling him how her day went — it made her feel like she wasn't going through it all alone. But now she did have to go through it all alone. The problem was that she was accustomed to writing to Tom until she got too tired to write properly and fell asleep, but not before making sure the diary was hidden where Fleeta Fleece wouldn't notice it. It had become Ginny's routine and she couldn't get to sleep without it. It was like she was under a spell — and perhaps she was.

Nevertheless, Ginny had succeeded. She had spent most of the night lying wide-awake in bed, bored out of her mind and desperately yearning for the diary if only to give herself something to do. But she had not given in and that was a victory even if it meant she would now have to go to her classes that day with maybe a couple hours of sleep. And she would have to go through this the next night. And the night after that. Maybe it would get easier...

But was she really sure that Tom Riddle was the one who was possessing her? She should really be completely sure before putting herself through this torture based on a guess. But it wasn't like she wasn't writing to him again at all — she was just reducing it to when she thought she really needed him and that seemed a suitable precaution given the circumstances. After all, she couldn't think of anything else that might be causing this to happen to her — at least nothing else she was doing.

But if she couldn't get to sleep without him and she would really rather not take her first year over again, wouldn't that count as a situation where she did need him? Ginny decided not, ignoring the blindingly bright sunlight hitting her tired eyes.

"Good morning, Ginny," said Percy brightly as she coasted dazedly across the common room. "You look tired — did you not get a good night's sleep?"

"Yeah," Ginny answered honestly.

"Well, that's too bad," Percy told her. "But I think I can fix that." He gestured to Fred and George and they stepped forward, both looking quasi-contrite.

"Gin," said George, "we're sorry for jumping out at you everywhere." Ginny had so much on her mind that it took her a few seconds to figure out what he was talking about.

"Oh... thanks," she said eventually. Fred and George had never apologized for anything without being coerced, so this was clearly Percy's doing.

"I hope your nightmares will stop now," said Percy cheerfully.

"What nightmares?" asked Ginny. She had been having bad dreams since the attack on Mrs. Norris, which had only increased in frequency and unpleasantness since then, but she didn't recall telling anyone but Tom Riddle about them.

"A girl in your dormitory told me you were talking in your sleep," Percy explained. "She said it sounded like you were having nightmares."

"What girl?" asked Ginny.

"Uh, Miss Fleece, I believe."

"Fleeta Fleece," Ginny repeated in outrage. "That's who you're getting your information from! That girl's an absolute bitch!"

"Ginny, language!" Percy scolded. "What d'you think your mother would think if she were here? Do you think she would ever use a word like 'bitch'?"

"No," Ginny admitted.

* * *

Ginny had no idea how she managed her classes that day. She did have History of Magic, so she was able to make up at least some sleep then. As she headed to dinner, she encountered Fleeta Fleece standing in the entrance hall with a smug smile plastered on her face. Scowls and smug smiles seemed to be the only shapes Fleeta's mouth was capable of forming. She had clearly been waiting there for Ginny.